


immersion theory {oola}

by ghostwriterofthemachine, loosingletters



Series: Pragmatics of the Jedi [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon-Typical Violence, Clones, Cultural exchange, Dai Bendu (Star Wars), Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Culture & Tradition (Star Wars), Puns & Word Play, Storytelling, Worldbuilding, language learning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/pseuds/ghostwriterofthemachine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: Immersion Theory: When it comes to language learning, immersion usually means learning a new language in the most natural way possible – in practice, being in a situation where the language is spoken.Or, five times the Clones stumble over Dai Bendu and one time they don’t.
Relationships: CC-1004 | Gree & Barriss Offee & Luminara Unduli, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Series: Pragmatics of the Jedi [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885129
Comments: 17
Kudos: 257





	immersion theory {oola}

**Author's Note:**

> _oola_ : to listen
> 
> We're not dead! We've actually been quite busy working on the backgrounds of this project! Enjoy reading!

**#1 foriben, kai'an, ru giinaa**

Rex liked to think that he understood his Jedi well. He had known Anakin since before he was in charge of his own battalion and he had, in fact, been personally requested by the Knight for the 501st. It made him more inclined to trust his General and the rapport they had built up, even when Anakin’s plans were a little more make-shift due to the pressure put on them.

Rex also liked to think that he knew his battalion’s Padawan well. Ahsoka had grown a lot in the few months she had been with them, physically, needing new robes and armor every other week or so it felt, but also mentally. She had become more serious, gathered the experience that Rex had recommended her to get before she started ordering people around. There were still some rough edges, but she was improving with every day. While she was not one of the Shinies that needed his training, Rex still felt responsible for her as if she were.

She was, despite being older than him, still a child after all. It wasn’t too often that she actually still truly behaved like one, throwing tantrums or asking “why?” in a confused voice, but right now, there was no doubt that she was just a kid having fun.

Eagerly, Ahsoka jumped up and down, barely listening to her Master’s words. Anakin had been up and about early even before his shift started, running around the ship and getting Troopers to carry objects and papers for him. Rex had taken one look at his workload and had decided not to question it. Seeing that the General hadn’t gone to him to ask for his help, Rex had concluded that he wasn’t needed. Seeing he wasn’t involved and the military brass had only raised their brows at the Jedi’s odd behavior, it couldn’t be relevant for a mission.

“And that’s it,” Anakin finished his speech. “Got it?”

“Haj _Dai_ , Jaieh,” Ahsoka replies, rolling her eyes. “I want to start! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”

Her Master laughed in turn and, fondly, pulled at her silka beads, a movement that Rex had observed him repeating more and more often.

“Yes, my young Padawan, don’t get overconfident. You have twenty troopers to find, don’t forget it.”

“I know.”

Rex had to pinch himself so he wouldn’t grin at her petulant tone. Sometimes it was nice to hear words that weren’t strict obedience needed on the battlefield. Shouting out orders and following them correctly was important, but Rex enjoyed these reminders that there would be a time where they wouldn’t have to reply to everything with “Yes, Sir!” and “No, Sir!”

“Foriben, kai'an, ru...” The General dragged out the last syllable, then shouted “giinaa!”

Rex had gotten familiar with the Jedi’s language. They did their best not to speak it around the Clones so that nobody would assume they were keeping secrets. They didn’t want to exclude the Clones and when they slipped up, they were quick to translate and explain their words to make everyone feel included.

Rex struggled with their language at times, more so than other brothers, not quite understanding the nuances the Force added. From all that he knew of it, the Force made the Jedi damn powerful fighters and let them lift objects that were twice their size and weight. It certainly had a lot of benefits, and so did speaking a language that the enemy did not understand. While they had their own code, replacing here and there a word for something the droids couldn’t understand, was useful.

And Rex didn’t know the words that had sent Ahsoka running out of the hanger, but they looked like they might be useful in the future.

The General watched Ahsoka rush out, then, with a smile on his face, he walked over to Rex. “And?” he asked, “what do you think? How long can we keep her busy?”

Rex snorted. “I have no idea what you have planned, Sir, but the Commander is quite skilled and has a good nose. I doubt whatever you're doing will hold for long.”

“Yeah.” His face well. “I tried to make it similar enough, but, you know, limited resources.”

“Sir,” Rex started, “if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing for her?”

“Oh!” He blinked as if it hadn’t occurred to him that Rex might not know. “Right, sorry, we call it… It’s basically a treasure hunt. We do it twice a year in the temple and since we were deployed again last week, Ahsoka missed it. I figured I could do something similar for her so she wouldn’t feel so left out and miss it too much.”

A treasure hunt, huh. They had done a couple of those as training exercises back on Kamino, especially the brothers who would later be assigned to tracking squads.

“I’m sure the Troopers you roped into helping will also have a lot of fun. What you said before were instructions then?”

“Oh, you mean, foriben, kai'an, ru giinaa?” Anakin asked, repeating the words of before, but slower this time.

“Yes, those exactly.”

“They mean patience, peace and follow. It’s kind of our _ready, set, go_. Calm down, listen to the Force and then go ahead and follow where it takes you. Make sense?”

Rex turned the words around in his head, and nodded slowly. It did suit the Jedi.

“Do you want to go over the reports while Ahsoka is busy?” he suggested then and watched as the General pulled a face.

“We should, shouldn’t we?” Sighing, he sat down next to Rex and reached for his datapad.

Together, they got to work until the end of their shift, when, many hours, later Ahsoka, and quite a large group of Troopers, returned to the cafeteria, victoriously holding up a bright blue banner.

**#2 ankai’a**

Commander Deko had learned a lot about his General ever since he had started working closer with them. General Ahrarak was not exactly what Deko had expected of a military leader, or a Jedi. For one, they were incredibly difficult to keep up with. Not because they purposefully left their troops behind, they’d never dare to abandon them.It was more that they were rather free-spirited and wouldn't stop moving, not for even just one second, at least, that was what it felt like. Even when they stood still on the battlefield, listening for a melody nobody else could here. There was an energy surrounding them that reminded Deko of the busy training halls of Kamino when it was time for an all out brawl.

General Ahrarak was also not particularly fond of the armor they had been assigned to wear. They preferred dropping as many pieces of it as they could, gifting it to the Shinies they had taken to. The few parts of their protective gear that they had kept, they had painted in with more colors than Deko dared to count at times.

It never failed to make him smile when he spotted the battalion's color among the complicated and stunning arrangements. It was good to know that their General thought of their troops enough to mirror their presence in their art as well.

Deko knew that he had lucked out with General Ahrarak. He certainly wouldn’t want to work under somebody different, it was just that sometimes Deko wished that their General was a little easier to keep up with.

“General, if you don’t mind me asking-”

“I don't!” General Ahrarak immediately replied. “Speak your mind, always. Especially when you think I’m about to do something stupid. My Master would be very thankful for it, he always told me to slow down. Is still telling me to do it, in fact.”

Right. Deko suppressed a sigh. “Sir, I was just wondering who we’re waiting for.”

The two of them had been standing in the hangers for a solid hour now, a time Deko could have used more productively, but he had only not spoken up because he was relieved to catch a break from his brothers. He loved them, but they were a little exhausting and had only gotten worse with Ahrarak’s enabling.

“Oh, didn’t I say?” the General asked. “I apologize. We’re waiting for ankai’a.”

 _Ankai’a_ , that was not a name Deko had heard before. He committed it to memory, then proceeded with his inquiries. “Are they another Jedi?”

“Yes,” the General nodded. “We‘re crechemates, from the same batch as you’d say, and she’s come to back me up in the next mission.”

Before Deko could get more information, a ship finally approached the hanger of this Force-forsaken outpost and landed. By the time its ramp was half down, his General was already halfway across the hanger, and then up the ramp and through the ship.

“Kath’resi!” Deko only heard somebody shout Ahrarak’s name, followed by the sound of someone crashing to the ground.

His General must have tackled their batchmate then. They were an affectionate kind, it didn’t surprise Deko at all. He waited patiently until his General had dragged the new Jedi out from the ship to introduce them. The woman at the General’s side was a tall Twi’lek, overshadowing even the General who was by all means not a small person. She, thankfully, wore a little more armor than the General, a sight which filled Deko’s heart with relief. One less Jedi he had to worry about then.

“General Ankai’a,” Deko greeted them seriously and salutated, “welcome to our base.”

General Ankai’a stared at Deko with what looked like confusion slowly merging into amusement. 

“ _General ankai’a_ , Kath’resi, have you been calling me names again?” She turned to her companion, who only grinned in delight. “I didn’t say anything that isn‘t true, ankai’a.”

Deko knew that grin and, oh Force, his General must have been insulting the other and Deko had foolishly assumed the foreign word was their name and insulted her in turn!

“I sincerely apologize, General,” he said, blushing furiously. He bowed deeply and for just one moment wished he had the authority to kick his General’s shins the same way he’d do it with a brother. On a second thought, perhaps, the General would let him get away with it. They were rather unorthodox.

“I wasn’t aware that I was insulting you. My deepest apologies-”

The other Jedi only shook her head and raised her hands in a placating manner. “You didn’t insult me! Not at all, you don’t have to bow.”

Hesitantly, Deko stood up straight again and found the other Jedi smile reassuringly at him. He was glad that he had done no harm.

“Honestly, Kath’resi ought to think before he speaks,” she shrugged. “In any case, _Ankai’a_ is something very sweet to call a person. It is reserved for the deepest of bonds people can have. Kath’resi and I consider each other such, but even so, this is not your fault, but that of my foolish ankai’a.”

Playfully, she jabbed her elbow into the General's side and Deko was quite pleased to see that she actually managed to hit them. She then bowed to Deko, hands arranged in a way he’d come to recognize as a traditional greeting.

“It is nice to meet you, Captain Deko. My name is Rela-Yan Loonar. I’m here to help you out with some annoying Separatists, I believe?”

Deko nodded. “Yes, General Loonar. If you would follow me, I have prepared some files for you and General Ahrarak to review.”

And so the trio left the hangers behind.

**#3 valra, sii**

Anyone who knew Gree for any significant amount of time picked up on his near-insatiable appetite for new information. He tore through holos like they were in danger of being discontinued. He absolutely delighted in learning about every new planet the battalion visited, talking to the locals (when they were up to talking), storing away anything and everything he thought was interesting. 

It therefore wasn’t any surprise that, upon learning that his General and Commander spoke a different language to each other, he set about learning it immediately, only after spending an entire evening immersing himself in language-learning theories, so as to go about learning it in the most efficient way. 

Barriss had to say, she much preferred spending her evenings teaching Gree the basics of Dai Bendu grammar, as opposed to sitting in her room, attempting to meditate while anxious doubts gnawed on the edges of her mind. 

Gree applied their lessons as often as possible, as the language-learning theories said he should, and Barriss was getting very used to hearing her language spoken, shakily but consistently, over the comms.

She was next to Jaieh Luminara, preparing for an infiltration mission, when Gree came over the line that the three of them shared.

“ _Jesara_ , Commander, General. _Tamaji nev noriurak sii,_ we should prepare accordingly.” 

Barriss stiffened, a surge of adrenaline pinging through her blood. She sensed Luminara do the same.

“New intel came in? Dooku is here?” Barriss asked. They were not prepared to deal with an escalation like that. “Or is it Ventress, this time? I know Grievous is in battle with the 104th right now, so it can’t be—” 

“What?” Gree interrupted. “Wait, Dooku is here?”

Jaieh Luminara laid a hand on Barriss’s shoulder, quiet and calming. “We might have misheard you, Commander. Isn’t that what you just said?”

Gree paused for a long moment, before saying, “No, no, I said that the mission would be dark, General.” His voice took on a guilty, sheepish quality. “Or, at least, that’s what I meant to say? Oh, Stars, did I kark it up?”

“Um.” Barriss rubbed at her temple, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. “Well, you said—”

Luminara stepped neatly in, cutting Barriss off. “A slight mistranslation, but nothing terrible, Commander,” she said. “It was a notable attempt. Would you be able to reach out to Quarter and organize low-light goggles for the infiltration team?”

“Ah — Of course, General, right away.”

There was a _click_ as Gree disconnected the comm. Barriss stared at her _Jaieh_. 

“Master, why didn’t you tell him—”

Luminara smiled serenely. “Oh, we’ll tell him later, of course. But I still owe him one after the water bottle prank during the last campaign. And we’re in such a rush to get this intel. After all, Dooku might be here.” 

#4 zahlah

It’d been years since Ki-Adi was a crechemaster, but it was, in a very real way, his truest roots as a Jedi. After he was knighted, he spent his next 7 years in the creche. Teaching and raising, being taught and being raised in return. He still believed that the Force spoke its loudest and clearest through children. Their inborn compassion and goodness. He let that guide him in everything that he did. 

He left the position eventually, as most did. Traveled the galaxy. Fought people who hurt others and helped eager young politicians write treaties and brought aid to places that needed food and supplies. 

In all those travels, children and their goodness remained the truest constant. 

Ki-Adi was old. He was almost certainly too old to be fighting in a war of this size and magnitude— too old to hear news that little beings he could remember being the same size as a bag of flour, who he could remember teaching words for colors, who he held and rocked to sleep, were now being shipped back to the Temple in pieces.

His men made him feel older still, because that spark in them— the eagerness to learn about the world, the wonder in small, everyday things, the easy way they gave their love and loyalty to each other and to him— that was the same goodness Ki-Adi carried from every child he’d ever taught or helped, despite their grown-up bodies and thoughts.

This did not make taking them into battle any easier. 

But now, gathering around a fire at a base camp, after as successful a campaign as they could possibly ask for, sounds of lighthearted laughing and talk surrounding them all, Ki-Adi looked around and his heart felt— not light, because one couldn’t have a light heart in a warzone, but warm. Familiar. Suspended, for a moment, in a bubble of goodness. 

His men were joking with each other, tossing out stories, most of them bawdy and lighthearted. There were also a few paraphrased Mando folktales. They began to argue about the plot points, laughing the whole time. Ki-Adi was content to listen, until one of his captains, Seeker, called across the fire to him— 

“General,” he said, “you tell one next!”

And then Ki-Adi had the whole group looking at him, eyes bright and shining, faces expectant. He was used to this look being cast at him. A group of students was a group of students, and all of them deserved to be taught. 

“I think I can manage that,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips. “How about we go with…” he flipped through all the traditional ones in his mind, eventually landing on one he thought these troopers in particular would enjoy. “This story is called _Nevi Zahlah kat Ehnap nev Padawanel.”_

The other language fell off his tongue so easily that Ki-Adi almost didn’t understand why his men looked so confused. Then it clicked, and he corrected himself. “The Story of a Lost Padawan. My apologies; that was force of habit, but rude nonetheless. I hope you can all forgive me for it.” Though his men had heard him speak in his mother tongue many times, none of them were anything close to fluent in it, nor would he expect them to be.

They all laughed and heckled him in response, and Ki-Adi smiled. It felt very good to smile. 

“Listen well and follow my voice,” he began. “There was once a padawan who, while on a mission, was separated from his Master by a great rockslide. Injured and with no supplies, the padawan called over the rubble at the top of his voice, hoping to hear his Master call back. But there was no response. So the padawan—” 

.

Later, when the fire had smoked itself out and the last story had been exchanged, Ki-Adi was moving towards his tent, ready to sleep. Put another day of the war behind him, meditate, and move on. 

“General?” called a soft voice to his left. 

Ki-Adi stopped, turned. 

One of the new troopers, only a few weeks off of Kamino, hesitated a few feet away. Ki-Adi recognized him, though not by name; most likely because he hadn’t chosen one yet. He was trying to hold himself at military attention, but kept breaking it to fidget and scuff his feet. 

“Yes, Trooper?” Ki-Adi responded. He smiled, slipping into the voice he used to talk to nervous young teenagers— which, given how young the new batches were looking, wasn’t too far off. 

“Could I,” he hesitated, swallowed. It hurt Ki-Adi’s heart, how nervous he looked. “Could I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“In that thing you said, before you told that story before— the Jedi language. Which of those words actually means _‘story?’_ ”

Ki-Adi blinked, surprised by the question. “ _Zahlah,”_ he answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you see, Sir. I, well. I—” He broke off, and then rushed through, _“Could-I-use-that-as-my-name?”_

“I’m— Trooper, I’m sorry, I missed that. Could you say it a bit slower?”

He exhaled a long, slow breath. “Could I use the word,” asked the trooper again, forcing himself to slow down, “as my name?”

Ki-Adi’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Because,” the trooper continued on, speeding back up again, as if scared of being interrupted or yelled at, “I like telling stories, and collecting them, and hearing them. And I wanted to name myself something about that. But also you, and all the other Generals, I wanted to do something— and I liked the way it sounded, when you said it before. But I know language is important, and I don’t want to just use it, so I wanted to ask you—”

“Trooper,” Ki-Adi interrupted. Everything was suddenly too much. He felt near tears. “Troope— _Zahlah.”_ He watched the trooper still when he said it. 

Force, these men. These _incredible men_ , so mistreated by the universe, manufactured to die, ordered and sent to faraway worlds by the senate on a planet most of them would never step foot on. And most still so _kind_ , despite that. So kind and good and loyal, so sure that the Jedi, at least, wouldn’t let them down. These men, who had so few choices, so few things they were truly in control of, the most important of which being their names. And this one, standing here and asking him _that—_

Ki-Adi’s voice shook. “Of course you can,” he said. “Thank you for asking me, that was incredibly sensitive of you, but— the answer is, largely, always going to be yes. You do us an honor, Zahlah _._ ”

In the dim light of the camp, Zahlah beamed. He snapped a salute. “Thank you, Sir.”

“No need for that, trooper,” Ki-Adi waved it off, head slightly ducked. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to ask me.”

After a pause, Ki-Adi bowed shallowly— largely out of habit, and it seemed to fluster Zahlah. “Have a good evening, trooper.”

“Uh— you too, General. Goodnight.”

They both began to walk away, until Ki-Adi paused once more. 

“Oh, trooper, one more thing? If any of the other men have any such questions, please send them my way immediately.”

**#5 kewan**

Meditating while in hyperspace was a singular experience. Obi-Wan often did it with his forehead pressed against the window.

Hyperspace made the Force feel like birds flying together in the rafters of a very tall building. Soft feathers brushing against other soft feathers. Indistinct noises, just out of reach. 

Obi-Wan imagined the feathers floating down, resting on his cheeks. He followed them with his mind’s eye and let his heartbeat slow.

The campaign had been long and grueling, and drained him dry. He was searching for a center of— just a center of something. Of himself, of the universe. Something physical to touch. 

The Force reached back and he used it to sink deeper into himself, searching for his own center.

His lips moved silently and without his conscious thought. 

When he opened his eyes, some amount of time later, Cody stood beside him. Also unmoving and staring out a window. Obi-Wan inhaled deeply. 

“My apologies,” Obi-Wan said. “It wasn’t my intention to ignore you.”

“No need,” replied Cody, easily. He gazed out into the black of space. “Are you alright, General? We went away there, for a bit.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan rasped over his dry tongue, then cleared his throat. “Yes, just fine, Commander. I was meditating. Probably a bit too deeply, for being out in public.” 

Cody inclined his head, ever-content with silence. One of the things Obi-Wan dearly appreciated about him. 

_“Tonbrei enoah foh,”_ Cody began, and made Obi-Wan jump, _“midaial ru enoah dai mifoh'al?”_

His pronunciation was off— vowels sitting slightly wrong in the mouth and a few of the consonants sounding like they didn’t quite have the right amount of air behind them. And the rhythm of the sentence was off. But Obi-Wan recognized the words as easily as his own name. 

_“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me,”_ he translated. And then he repeated it back in the first language, correcting the pronunciation. 

“You were saying that while your eyes were closed, General.”

“Yes,” said Obi-Wan. “It’s a meditation mantra. One of the first we learn. It’s a comfort, for many of our children,” he added, aware he was divulging something and fairly unselfconscious about it, “to remind ourselves of the things that are always with us.”

“That sounds like it would be a comfort for anyone, Sir,” said Cody, as perceptive as ever. And Obi-Wan, returning the perception, detected a note of longing in his voice. 

_“Oh,”_ he thought. 

“Would you like me to teach you?” Obi-Wan asked mildly. 

Cody started. “Teach me?”

“To meditate.”

“Sir, I’m not Force—”

“You don’t need to be Force Sensitive to meditate,” Obi-Wan smiled, “just as you don’t need to be Force Sensitive to have the Force within you. It’s grounding. It’s kept me from losing my head more than once.”

Cody hesitated. Began to say something, then stopped. 

“Yes, Commander?”

“If we’re going to do that, Sir,” Cody said, “we should go get Waxer, as well. He’s been trying to learn by copying you.”

Obi-Wan felt as if the ground under his feet grew more solid. The center he had been so searching for revealed itself, from the quiet feathers above him. 

“Let’s get him, then,” said Obi-Wan. “And anyone else who would like to join in. This might be a good group bonding exercise, hm?” 

**#6 geton**

He had a name once, a long time ago when he had cheerfully smeared maroon paint across his white armor and looked upon every scratch with vicious joy. He had been part of the last generation that had still fought in the Clone Wars, more child than soldier, but a brother who knew his duty anyway. He had been so painfully young then, only eight years, looking like a standard human at sixteen, and not quite done growing yet. Too many soldiers had died in the war already and they hadn’t been able to afford waiting on his generation to grow up. He had been pulled from Kamino to serve as back up or canon fodder. It was just about the same thing, that much he knew. He had been able to read it in the faces of the older soldiers, those who had already left youth behind and didn’t need new armor every month as their limbs grew too long and their armor began to trap them like a shell.

Not that he had gotten a new armor every month. They didn’t have any money to spare on the regular. He had gotten hand-me-downs as he had on Kamino, and nothing had quite fit him, no matter how identical they were all supposed to be.

Spare armors had turned up after a couple missions of course.

The only thing that had really been his had been his number. In-between being pushed around, trying to fit in with the squadron he had been assigned to, all that he had clung to was his number, his _name_.

Those precious last words of his first commander, his first General. She had been promoted after her Master’s death, their company too far away for another Knight to take command and lead them through the frozen tundra they had been stuck in for weeks.

She had looked so sweet in the snow, pale like the angels of the stories he had never been told as a child.

She had smiled at him, kindly brushed his tears from his cheeks like a mother or a sister would as she whispered words he had hardly been able to understand.

Her voice had grown more quiet by the second, the wind almost failing to carry her words to him as the snow had slowly turned red around him.

She had been a traitor, but he still grieved her loss for some unexplainable reason.

“Im iino, geton,” she had mumbled, her breaths becoming more and more shallow. “Enoji brei ormah.”

They had been separated from the group and all he could think was that he couldn’t return to the base with his General dead and the mission failed.

_Geton, geton, geton._

He had thought it had been an order. _Get on with it, fulfill the mission_. It was his General’s last wish, Jedi ideology at its best.

He had done it of course, had returned back to the base without his General, but the mission fulfilled. She was still down there somewhere, on the planet below, frozen.

It didn’t matter anymore.

“CT-5010, are you prepared?” His Commander asked him. He was a soldier, a good one too, but he was not CT-5010’s brother and somehow the thought made him bitter.

“Yes, Sir!” CT-5010 replied anyway.

His Commander nodded, but there was no warmth behind it, no gentle reassurance. “Good, prepare yourself and your squadron. The planet’s icy surface is a death trap.”

CT-5010 already knew that, but he was a good solider and followed his orders correctly without talking back. “Yes, Sir!”

The Commander left again and CT-5010 remained behind with only his own thoughts to accompany him. Not that he could indulge much in them when he felt like a traitor thinking about the sixteen-year-old who had died with his name on her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Some end notes!
> 
> #3  
>  _Tamaji nev noriurak sii:_ The mission will be dark.  
> Gree's mistake here is one of vocabulary; Dai Bendu has three very distinct words for 'dark.' The word he was looking for here was 'valra,' which means physical darkness, as in 'it's dark in here, turn on the light!' The word he _used_ , 'sii,' means a kind of darkness specific to the Sith. Thus the panicked reaction from poor Barriss.
> 
> #6  
> "Geton" does not actually mean "Get on" but is Dai Bendu for "ten", so the Clone's name. And some of you might recognize _“Enoji brei ormah.”_ from the Reassurance fanfic! It means "Everything will be alright."  
> Thanks for reading!  
> We'd love to hear what you think.


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